


New Socks for Wolves

by arrafrost



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 12:06:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16832314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrafrost/pseuds/arrafrost
Summary: "brb writing porn about stiles and derek wearing new socks"





	New Socks for Wolves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TorakoDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TorakoDragon/gifts).



> Transferring old NSFW shorts from tumblr onto AO3 now that they're deleting NSFW content. I am not writing Teen Wolf again.

“What… are these?” Derek’s brow rose high into his hairline as he held up two pairs of knee length blue and black stripped socks. 

“Look I know bright colors are scary for you but don’t let that distract you-”

“Stiles I know they’re socks,” Derek grumbled, glaring over the present Stiles had placed on the table moments earlier. “Why did you give me them?”

Stiles opened his mouth to answer but Derek cut him off.

“And why are there four.”

Stiles down right grinned from ear to ear like the Cheshire cat himself. “For… you know… all four of your legs… to keep your paws warm…”

Derek threw a pair of the socks at Stiles’ face.

“You know… because you’re a puppy… that has four pa-”

Derek threw the second pair of socks at Stiles’ face.

As it turned out, Derek forced Stiles to wear a pair as he slipped his own new socks over his feet. Because they were “ _matching_ ” Stiles said. They were… ridiculously long and tight on his legs, clinging aggressively to his leg hair - of which there was an abundance of. It was terribly awkward and itchy.

Itchy to the point that Derek’s hand found his way to his legs during the day after he and Stiles went their separate ways - each with a threat that they had to wear the socks for the entire day. 

If he was in the Camaro, he was scratching his legs while keeping a close eye on the road in his awkward half-bent position in his seat. He was rubbing his leg against the shopping cart whenever he stopped to pick out an item.

When he finally sat down at the table across from Stiles for dinner with his boyfriend and the Sheriff, he was subtly scratching his leg against the table leg.

Stiles, apparently, had the same idea because not even halfway through the meal Stiles’ foot was knocking against Derek’s. Derek pushed his foot out of the way thinking Stiles was scolding him at first but it turned out they were doing the same thing, relieving the itch. Slowly that turned into Stiles foot rubbing up Derek’s leg as Derek’s foot did the same to Stiles’ leg. Scratching each other legs with their feet… it was… getting some weird looks from the Sheriff who rose his brow at the odd movements of his son and his boyfriend. 

“Stop playing footsies under the table and eat your food before you ruin my appetite.”

They both muttered apologies and went back to their food until Derek felt Stiles’ foot sliding up his leg again. It was too soft to relieve the scratch though, and soon he felt Stiles foot nudging his thighs apart and that was a whole other thing they shouldn’t be doing under the table with the Sheriff right at the end. 

Derek narrowed his eyes, glaring at the teenager subtly - who returned his gaze with a devious smirk and a shrug before nonchalantly turning back to his food. Derek didn’t stop him though.

He coughed awkwardly, trying to ignore the toes inching slowly up his inner thigh while poking at the peas on his plate. 

He avoided Stiles contact ones his foot reached his crotch, rubbing him through three layers. His jeans, his boxers, and those _loud_ socks.

Why was he letting this happen? Why was he allowing Stiles to consensually molest him at the dinner table? Where Stiles’s dad was currently located. Oh right, because Stiles was going to be the death of him. With his ability to manipulate him into anything with his lustful scent and stupid smirk.

Derek bit back a moan that was also a warning growl for Stiles as he swallowed some potatoes. 

“Okay, I know what you’re doing. Frankly, it’s turned me off eating all together. Not even a grease filled burger would be appetizing to me right now. So you’re both on dish duty, and I’m going upstairs to either take a nap or drink so I can forget about my pervert son and his enabling boyfriend.”

With that, there Sheriff excused himself from the kitchen table, leaving Derek and Stiles to clear the table and wash the dishes. Which they did… pressed up to each other’s sides as Stiles washed and Derek dried. 

Derek was bending over to put the last pot down in the bottom cupboard when he felt Stiles’ hand run up the inside of his thigh to cup his ass. He grunted in surprise but Stiles was more surprised when he found himself pinned against the counter moments later. 

“You… are so annoying,” Derek growled playfully into Stiles ear, loving how his heartbeat had picked up, how he was practically panting, how he’d been leaking the smell of arousal since the end of dinner.

“But you like the socks, admit it.”

Derek shook his head, aligning their hips and grinding into Stiles. The younger boy pressed his lips together to stop the moan that Derek wanted to hear, but he knew they couldn’t wake his father. 

“I hate the socks,” Derek growled, lips trailing up Stiles’ neck, “but I like what you can do with them.”

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, NOT WHILE I’M IN THE HOUSE!" 

Stiles and Derek looked at each other guiltily, still snug against each other, until they both whispered something that would make Stiles’ father much happier.

"Your place?” “My place?”


End file.
